


Such a Noble Aim as Love

by CatherineA



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Pre-Epilogue, harry and ginny reunion, harry and ginny reunite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatherineA/pseuds/CatherineA
Summary: He’s alive, and he’s here, and he’s real. That’s enough for the moment.Or, the reunion between Harry and Ginny I always wanted to read, so I just wrote it.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, assumed background canon relationships
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	Such a Noble Aim as Love

The first time Ginny sees Harry, she isn’t sure that he’s really there. Her eyes are bleary; she hasn’t slept. Most of her family has been in the Great Hall for the hours following the battle, and if one member leaves to help with something outside, they inevitably return not long after. 

She determines she isn’t imagining him when her mother lurches up from the seat next to her, immediately wrapping Harry in a hug as she starts to cry again. _Stop,_ she wants to snap at her mum. _Can’t you see you’re making him uncomfortable?_

But of course, she doesn’t. It would only be the grief and lack of sleep talking, and her mother is already hurting too much. Harsh words are the last thing she deserves. 

Ron has made his way over to Harry, and when mum pulls away from Harry, he claps him on the back. They exchange words in low tones as the rest of her family curiously converges around The Boy Who Lived. The sight is almost comical until Ginny realizes that she’s also been unconsciously compelled to stand. 

She’s hovering on the edge of the circle of well-wishers. Harry does look uncomfortable as her family comes up to him individually, thanking him and praising him. It’s clear that he doesn’t know what to say about Fred’s death other than a repetitive apology, and everyone keeps dismissing it. Obviously, he feels guilty – she wishes someone would at least acknowledge that. He won’t ever drop the subject if he feels like no one understands.

Even more than he looks uncomfortable, he looks tired. Exhausted. It’s the slump of his shoulders and the way that none of his expressions reach his eyes and how he keeps his gaze on someone or something for just a few beats too long.

Bill and Fleur are standing closest to her, and when Harry turns they both to reach to give him a hug. Bill doesn’t say anything after, just grasps Harry’s hand in a brief shake. Ginny has always appreciated that about Bill; he seems to understand what others usually don’t. 

Ginny realizes most of her family has turned back to each other after greeting Harry, whispering and debating and grieving. They aren’t truly paying attention when Harry finally turns in her direction. It feels natural, reaching for him, wrapping her arms around him and gripping his sweater tightly in her fists. He hold her just as tightly, one of his hands tangling in her hair. 

The embrace is brief, but she feels as if the heaviest weight has been lifted off of her back. He’s alive, and he’s here, and he’s real. That’s enough for the moment.  
They both offer each other small, tired smiles. He opens his mouth, no doubt to apologize yet again, but she shakes her head. 

“Don’t,” she says quietly. For a moment she thinks he’ll protest, but he closes his mouth and nods once. She nods back. She’s angry, and she’s hurt, and she’s relieved, and she’s still a little scared. But all of that can wait. The present is enough. 

Before either of them can say anything else, the rest of the witches and wizards who have remained behind in Great Hall to help have realized what – or rather who – has caused such a stir. Suddenly, Harry is shaking more hands and giving an ear to more declarations of gratitude that he clearly doesn’t want. 

Quietly, Ginny slips away. She waves to Bill as she goes so they don’t worry or go looking for her. She really does need a nap, and maybe a shower, too. 

When Ginny opens her eyes, blinking slowly, it’s dawn. Horror washes over her as everything comes flooding back and then as she realizes a short nap turned into a full night of sleep. She sits up quickly, tossing the throw blanket off of her, and hurries over to the window, pulling back the curtain to peer out.

The soft light from outside illuminates the room enough that she realizes she isn’t the only one to have fallen asleep in her old dormitory, though she can’t identify every person, as many of the curtains are pulled shut around the four-poster beds. She turns her attention to the Hogwarts grounds, and then she frowns. A figure is slowly picking his way around the lake. A figure she would know anywhere – it’s Harry.

He survived Voldemort, but he’ll kill himself from lack of sleep. 

Quietly, Ginny pulls on her boots. She fell asleep in her fresh pair of jeans and a sweater, and she doesn’t think she needs to bother changing them quite yet. She knows she isn’t sleepwalking, but she gets that sensation as she traces the familiar path down to the castle entrance. Except, what used to be so familiar is now mostly destroyed.

There are a few people around. She sees her father, Bill, McGonagall, Kingsley, and others. Plans are being discussed, but for the first time all year, she can’t bring herself to care that she isn’t included. A few people notice her, but no one tries to stop her to talk, and she’s grateful. 

The cool, early spring air hits her as she slips out the front door of the castle, and she stops, blinking. It’s still fairly dark outside, and she needs a moment for her eyes to adjust. She shivers a bit, pulling the sleeves of her sweater down over her fingers. 

Ginny picks her way down towards the lake, taking her time. She doesn’t know what she wants to say. Nothing, maybe. Part of her hopes Harry’s gone by the time she arrives down by the lake. That part of her is ridiculous, and she knows it. She doesn’t get to avoid him after she spent eight months wanting to talk to him. 

He has not, of course, left in the few minutes it takes her to get down. He is on the opposite side of the lake, though, so she stands under a nearby tree to wait for him to come back around. It’s obvious when he catches sight of her. His steps falter, and he stiffens. Ginny lifts a hand in greeting, and he nods back, but his pace does not increase as he finishes his lap. 

He offers her an embarrassed smile once they’re close enough to speak. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice coming out a bit scratchy. They’re the first words she’s spoken since waking up.

He shrugs. “Thinking.”

She can’t help but laugh a little, and now that he’s near enough, she throws her arms around him again. He returns the hug, and she closes her eyes as she rests her chin on his shoulder. The frenzy and confusion of his appearance in the Great Hall is gone, replaced by only the sounds of birds calling to one another in the distance and the gentle lap of the water hitting the shore. 

They stay like that for several moments, and it’s Ginny who pulls away to look at him. 

“You look awful,” she laughs, but there’s a lump in her throat that makes the words difficult to force out, and her eyes sting. Surprisingly, he laughs back, and without discussing it they fall into step beside each other, continuing Harry’s path around the lake. 

She takes his hand and they just walk, neither of them speaking for several minutes. Her breath evens out to the beat of their footsteps, and as the darkness slowly fades, she is able to take in the destruction around them. Finally, Ginny turns her head slightly to look at him as she decides to ask the question that’s been plaguing her for almost a day now. It seems appropriate to bring up the subject now, as the sun is preparing to break above the horizon once again.

“You went to the forest, didn’t you? You were going to let him kill you.”

He stiffens, and she releases his hand, which he quickly slips out of hers. There’s a moment of silence that’s just a second too long. “You don’t – I can’t…” He’s looking anywhere except at her, and he seems far more panicked than he did at any point she’d seen him during the battle. He pauses, collecting himself, and takes a breath. “I promise I’ll explain it to you, Ginny, I just – I don’t – ”

“It’s okay,” she says quickly, because it is. They have all the time in the world. He shifts back and forth, and she finds she wouldn’t be surprised if he stood and walked away from her. 

“I’m sorry, Gin,” he says finally. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say more, and then he closes it again, shaking his head. 

Ginny smiles softly. She finds that this time, it takes her a great deal of effort. “I know. I forgive you. Though there’s much less to be forgiven than you probably think,” she adds. 

He shakes his head again, and she can tell he’s trying to say something else, so she stays quiet, letting him gather his thoughts. 

“I missed you,” he says. 

“You, too.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, and she realizes without him having to say a word that he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. She knows him, and she knows what he needs to tell her. In spite of it, she takes his hand. 

“I don’t think I am either,” she says simply. 

He does look at her now, startled. “What?”

She nods once. “I don’t think I’m in a place where I need to be in a relationship right now, either. You were going to tell me something like that, right? I’m sure you would have made it sound much more noble, though.” She squeezes his hand when she sees the smallest of dumbfounded smiles appear on his face.

“How did you know?” he asks her. 

“Because I know you.” She nudges his shoulder with hers. 

He nods once. “Thank you,” he mumbles. 

“Maybe one day. Maybe even soon. But we have time. And – I need to process a lot, I think,” she admits. She turns to look out at the water, but she can feel him watching her. She thinks of Fred. Of Tonks, who had become one of her closest friends, and of Colin Creevy, her peer. She lets go of his hand then, because it makes sense. He turns to look back out at the water too, but now the silence they linger in is a comfortable one. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, “about Fred.”

“Nobody blames you, you know. You can stop apologizing.”

“Just because – "

“Hmm?"

“Just because someone isn’t blamed for something doesn’t mean it isn’t their fault.”

“Maybe not. But this time it’s true.”

Harry shrugs, unconvinced. She turns to him. It’s light enough now that she can see small cuts on his cheek as if a stray tree branch had caught him unaware.

She takes a breath. “I know why you’re thinking the way you do. You always have. It’s just your logic, and it’s stupidly heroic. But I digress. Please, just listen to me – to the way everyone else sees it. Everyone knew what they were getting into when they came here. Everyone knew they could die. You didn’t trick us. You didn’t lie to us. When you refuse to acknowledge that this isn’t your fault, you’re refusing to acknowledge the choices everyone made, Harry. The brave choices. The right choices. And that’s the way we should remember them, I think. Brave people who chose the right thing. Do you think you’ll ever be able to see it that way? To stop putting everything on yourself?”

He takes a long moment to answer. “Maybe one day.”  
Ginny purses her lips, smiling gently. “Probably not soon, though.”

“Probably not,” he admits, and though they aren’t laughing, their eyes shine with the silent understanding. He looks away from her again, and she follows his gaze. 

The sun is now visible as it rises off the lake, and the water that seemed so inky and perilous a few minutes before now shines a gradient of colors – a pale blue, a grey, a soft pink, and even a little orange. 

“I’ve officially survived a full day with no near-death experiences,” he deadpans, and Ginny does laugh then. It feels wrong, but also right.

“Here’s to many more,” she says quietly. 

They’re both still watching the sun rise over the water when he answers. “Ages… months…years maybe…”

The corner of her mouth is tugged upward. _Yes,_ she thinks. _That sounds exactly right._

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Noble Aim by Sleeping at Last.
> 
> I've always had the headcanon that the reunion between Harry and Ginny was pretty quiet and simple - no shouting or dramatic declarations of love or anything like that. I also imagine that they didn't immediately jump back into where they left off with their relationship - being apart for a year probably changed them both a lot. 
> 
> Thoughts are always appreciated!


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